The Fortress of Dr. Kratsvich (Closed)

Maria realized things were going horribly wrong when she felt a pressure on her anus. "No! I meant your ass, not mine!" she blurted. Then she arched her back, her entire body tensing as a thin tip was inserted deeply into her ass, her tightened muscles no impediment to the object.

"Ah!" she gasped, feeling a much larger object beginning to follow the small tip into her. It felt slick, and there was little pain, but despite all her experience with men, all her undercover missions in skimpy clothing, the sensation of having her ass penetrated was a new one, and Maria found it terribly uncomfortable. When the object finally reached full penetration, she found herself panting and straining against her bonds.

She heard that dreadful whirring sound again from behind her, and then the intruder began gently rocking, pulling out and reinserting itself, like some methodical mechanical lover. She saw a timer flash up on the screen and she groaned. As if the shame were not enough, the sphere pressed against her womanhood began to vibrate softly and deeply with each penetrating push of the shaft.

"S-stop that!" she choked, as she was forced to shudder with pleasure at each deep uncomfortable stroke. Her body's need to cum was quickly heightened by the unholy machine, and each buzz of the sphere against her seemed to bring her closer to climax. Maria bit down hard on her lip, to try to contain the moans that threatened to escape her lips with each deep stroke. Like hell if she was going to let them condition her body to enjoy being taken in the ass. Yet as the timer ticked down inexorably, her body betrayed her, rising close to crescendo every second, and forcing soft cries to slip past her tightly closed ruby lips.

"You bastards!" she groaned, shuddering with pleasure. She decided after enduring 30 seconds of this new torture, that she no longer cared, she'd set off the EMP bomb, consequences be damned. As she watched the timer tick down, Maria tried to will herself over the edge, tried to enjoy the strange concoction of pleasure and discomfort. She tried everything she could think of.

But it was no use, the timer reached zero, leaving her panting and unsatisfied yet again. She cursed herself for giving in, for playing their game, whatever it was. Maria told herself to be strong, but there, bound on all fours, at the mercy of some sick mind and his toys, she was finding herself ill equipped to resist. She'd endured capture before - it was a waiting game, endure while you watched for your enemy to make a mistake, ever so small. She prayed these machines had some human error built in for her to exploit.

The sixty seconds expire, and the thick length within Maria's ass strokes one final time, burying deep between tight cheeks, before it withdraws, sliding out of her clenching pucker and retreating to whatever devilish machine awaits behind her, out of sight. There is a whirr and the screen blanks, and the characteristic static pop of a nervescan washes over Maria, observing her panting, flushed form.

The screen displays:

Initial conditioning applied. Continuing with analysis suite y/n?
y

clitoral sensitivity 76%
vaginal sensitivity 65%
anal sensitivity 14%

tailoring conditioning elements.
assessing secondary characteristics . . .


The stand Maria has been mounted on comes to life, slowly raising higher, as gears click and whirl beneath her. A slot opens up beneath her heavy, dangling breasts, and what resembles a long bowl of silver fluid rises to cup them in its liquid depths. It's warm and tingly, and constantly shifts against the sensitive mounds, pleasurably kneading them. Her nipples, diamond-hard, are drawn in by light suction to hidden notches that suckle on the rosy tips and flick them with a soft tip that brushes by irregularly.

At the same time, something soft and padded smacks hard against her ass, bouncing her body forward in its awkward crouch. There's a little vibrating knob on it that fits perfectly into the delta of Maria's womanhood, pressed between her inner lips and pushing a bare-half inch in. This muted spanking continues, a strange mixed mockery of sex and the weight of a man slamming into her hips from behind, and pure fetishism.

The tingles were intensifying across her body, slowly identifying where she was most sensitive and vulnerable, as the machine began to profile and document her entire sexual nature so that Maria might be better dominated.

Maria shuddered with pleasure as the probe withdrew from her anus, and she breathed a long sigh of relief, though the experience had left her body trembling with unquenched need for release. She tensed when she heard the familiar sound of a nervescan.

Initial conditioning applied. Continuing with analysis suite y/n?
y

clitoral sensitivity 76%
vaginal sensitivity 65%
anal sensitivity 14%

tailoring conditioning elements.
assessing secondary characteristics . . .

"What the hell?" she said. Maria had little time to process the thought, for the black platform below her came to life, rising upwards. Alarmed, she looked downward to see an opening below her dangling breasts, bringing a wide bowl of the silver liquid upwards toward her naked lobes. "No!" protested Maria, squirming in her bonds, but she could do nothing to keep her breasts from sinking into the liquid with a soft squish. The strange sensations from the bowl room return, only intensified somehow, as she felt her breasts gently kneaded and squeezed, her over-sensitized nipples softly suckled and flicked by something soft and rough, each motion causing a reflexive clenching of her inner thighs. Maria's breasts had always been a soft spot, such that she rarely let men spend much time on them, preferring to keep her weakness to herself. She had a flash back to her pre-ADA days, on a mission in Asia, where she'd infiltrated a Yakuza organization. The leader had let his men strip search her, which somehow devolved into a set of lips lavishing kisses on each of her breasts. Maria had regrettably been forced to break character and kill all three of them.

Something soft smacked her ass, drawing Maria back to the present. She craned her head to try to see behind her, for it felt more than anything like a rough male lover readying to take her from the rear. Then she arched her back, her mouth gaping open as something moved against her womanhood. She choked on a moan as the vibrating knob set off a quivering response in her poor attention-craved pussy. She could not see what was pushing her from behind, but the motion was awfully familiar, and she was immediately caught up in the delicious sensations.

Maria remembered what the screen had said, and the nervescan. The damned machines were testing her, examining her weakness no doubt. Maria was damned if she was going to let herself be evaluated like some laboratory animal. And yet, the liquid on her breasts felt so good, so impossibly organic - no human lover could do what these damned machines were doing. Maria was barely aware of the soft cries coming from her throat, as she squirmed and trembled from the onslaught of sensations. The little brushes on her nipples made her want to cum, yet they never lingered long enough to give her that blessed relief, and she groaned in helpless frustration. She pushed back with her hips, trying to drive the vibrating knob deeper, to provide more satisfaction, but it was no good, she was simply teased and aroused without mercy. Her face felt hot and flushed, and she leaned her head down, her auburn hair tussled about. If there was a camera somewhere, she did not want them to see her face, to know how overheated she'd become.

The vibrating knob begins to extend, perhaps a millimeter on each push against Maria's ass; mounted on a thick shaft, it slowly spreads her mound a little more on every stroke, granting the penetration her body craves at an agonizing trickle. Every clap of padding against her taut thighs makes her body shudder, as clear fluid trickles down the inside of Maria's thighs, weeping from her achingly empty pussy.

Her luscious breasts, on the other hand, are unrelentingly toyed with by the silvery fluid molesting her chest - mauling the soft, firm tits with wet licks and relentless suckling. Maria's poor nipples are particularly targeted, caught within their erotic prison and battered by an unending tonguelashing and suction that leaves her lightheaded. Unable to resist, she can do nothing but endure.

Orgasm is still as distant as ever. The pleasure crunches down, dizzying and torturous, but the tight knot of climax evades her still, even as her entire body is plied by devious, relentless sexual machinery. The screen flickers in front of her, once more displaying that hated line:

Please state your name. Compliance will be rewarded.

And then there is a new sensation, as a hand - a human hand, skin rough and real, skims across Maria's navel, her lithe belly, tracing over her trembling thigh to settle on one generous globe.

"So you are my intruder," a voice from behind her states. The voice. Infamous across the globe - Dr. Kratsvich. Hoarse, composed, apathetic. A scholar's voice, and a tired one.

At first Maria thought she was imagining it, but in time, she was sure the vibrating knob, which was driving her mad with desire, was extending, pushing into her pussy, which was now overflowing with her juices. She kept trying to wiggle her hips, to get the cursed thing to go deeper, to satisfy the need that was threatening to take over her mind, yet there was no give in the bonds that held her.

She'd also tried bending her back, to escape the liquid that was cruelly tormenting her breasts, and to her dismay, the casing that held the liquid moved with her, so that there was never any respite from the squeezing, licking, and suckling that no human, or pair of humans, could have hoped to duplicate. Her body was not designed to experience such things, and despite all her training, her powerful need to endure the Doctor's torments silently, to not give him the satisfaction . . . it simply wasn't possible. Maria's tightly clenched jaw and lips could not contain the sporadic gasps and soft cries of pleasure, nor could her toned muscles keep her body from responding with humiliating shudders and clenching of thighs. She told herself she only needed a moment, to compose herself, to get it together, but that moment never came - the machines were relentless and ruthlessly efficient. She wondered how machines could possibly seem to know so much about the female body and its weaknesses.

Please state your name. Compliance will be rewarded.

"Oh god," choked Maria, her body flaming high at the imagined 'reward.' Relentless indeed, it still wanted her name. Even the thought of complying nearly pushed her over the edge, but the machines seem to know, to adjust somehow, to deny her that final dizzying climax that she craved with every fibre of her being.

Maria gasped suddenly. There was a new sensation, a different one, something touching her tight, straining belly. She whimpered when it moved around her thigh to gently clutch her trembling ass. It was a hand, a human hand.

"So you are my intruder," said a voice. Maria froze. The voice, unmistakable, from all the recordings she'd watched and heard in preparation for the mission. Her target, Dr. Kratsvich, here in this very room. And yet he might as well be a million miles away, for she was helpless to do anything but quiver with desire at his casual touch.

No! thought Maria. You cannot let him win. She mustered every bit of courage, forced herself to keep still, to stop her body from responding helplessly. She would show him she was still in control, still able to stand up to his infantile sexual assaults.

"Yes," she responded, her voice sounding hoarse and husky to her own ears. "I am here to rid the world of your villainy, Doctor. You cannot break me with your silly little toys. You want my name? I am Death, come to claim your soul."

Kratsvich hums tiredly, his hand squeezing one ample asscheek. "You imagine you're the first?" he replies, and pats her generous assets once. "The machine will let you climax in one hour - that's how long it will take passive scans to deactivate those tiresomely redundant EMP devices you have hidden on you. At that point you will be released, and I will utilize your as training for your reformed predecessors. This is the closest you will come to me as a free-willed individual. I feel it polite to inform you of this, should you choose to retreat instead."

He sighs, and the hand leaves Maria's cheek, as the voice recedes into the distance. "None of you never do, though."

The vision of the slowly-writhing latex-clad females in that wide, domed room suddenly takes on a horrifying new implication, but there is no time to consider this left as the machine accelerates its treatments abruptly, the screen flickering to a red line of text: Subject resistance confirmed. Beginning discipline cycle.

The knob extends to its full length, pushing deeply into Maria's wet pussy, spreading her wide all the way to its deep hilt until her toes curl from the raw fullness. Something clicks inside of her, the goo unlocking within her and unblocking the resonance of a strengthening, trembling climax that would tear her apart - and then it draws out and goes still, leaving her empty and unfulfilled.

Seconds pass.

Then it rolls forward again, that soft but firm tip rubbing against her clitoris and then pushing deep inside before retreating again.

More time passes.

It becomes clear that the interval has been precisely designed and applied so that Maria cannot climax from it, even with her block removed. At the same time, the silver goo retreats from her heavy breasts, deigning only to drag a rough tongue across the lush curve of a tit or nipple once every ten seconds or so. After the intense sexual torture of the last bit, the lingering nature of this new game is frustration itself.

Sixty minutes - a full hour - to endure whatever the machine can do to her.

Another long, deep thrust, the knob hilting deep in Maria's pussy, rocking taut hips forward against that panel that claps against her ass with every stroke.

Maria hated the way her body responded to his simple squeezing of her ass. It was so unfair, to encounter her nemesis in such a state, after so much sexual torment.

"You imagine you're the first?" he replies, and pats her generous assets once. "The machine will let you climax in one hour - that's how long it will take passive scans to deactivate those tiresomely redundant EMP devices you have hidden on you. At that point you will be released, and I will utilize your as training for your reformed predecessors."

"No!" whispered Maria, the mind suddenly flooded with realization. The poor girls in black latex, they were . . . agents, like her. Some ADA, some from other similar agencies around the world. She'd heard of agents disappearing. The male ones showing up floating in the harbor, the females . . . simply gone. Her own agency had sent two girls, Aya, the pretty, tall Asian girl that Maria had trained herself. And Monique, voluptuous, a virgin, and devoutly religious, one of ADA's best agents. Could they both be down there, in that bowl? Mindlessly crawling about? It was inconceivable!

"This is the closest you will come to me as a free-willed individual. I feel it polite to inform you of this, should you choose to retreat instead."

"None of you never do, though," he added, his voice trailing away as he left the room.

Retreat? Was he offering her a way out? Maria was highly skilled at the ancient board game Go, so she knew that retreat was often tactically advisable. She had no problem with retreating, to recoup and attack again.

Subject resistance confirmed. Beginning discipline cycle.

What? Suddenly Maria cried out, her body going rigid, her head falling back in a noiseless scream, as the object firmly pushed itself inside her to the hilt. She felt something odd click inside her, and then she moaned loudly as her body began a crushing, mind-bending climax . . . and just as she felt the wave cresting, the vibrating knob was going out again. No, come back!

Maria was left gasping and shaking, waiting in eager anticipation for the knob to bury itself inside her hungry furnace, but . . . nothing. The disappointment was so overwhelming that she groaned. The liquid encasing her breasts had retreated also, only occasionally laying a rough, teasing tongue-lashing over her poor distended nipples. But no knob. Then just as her body began to relax, it began again, slowly burying itself inside her. Her body arched, so oversensitive that one single deep stroke nearly caused her to cum, and then the knob retreated again, leaving her desperate and needy.
"You bastard," groaned Maria, realizing they meant to leave her like this, for an hour. It was impossibly cruel. "Can you hear me, Doctor? You cannot do th---ahhh, gaa!" she cried, interrupted by a slow agonizing stroke of the vibrating knob.

After each crippling stroke, it took her some time to catch her breath. "Natalie?" she voiced, tentatively, breathless. There was nothing but static, she was alone to endure the most diabolical of tortures. "Natalie, come in plea---oh god!!! It's s-so deep!" she cried, as the knob resumed another of its deep strokes. "I-I can't take this, Natalie! You have to get me out of here!"

The screen in front of Maria flickers to new text.

Though it should be of no concern to you presently, Miss Maria, I backtraced your signal at the beginning of your session. Natalie took the initiative of commandeering an ADA transport chopper to evac you as soon as possible. It proved foolish, unfortunately.

The screen flickers to a different interrogation room, and within it is caught her support - Natalie.

To your credit, it looks like you will endure much better than she will.

Mousy, long hair falls in tangles down a slim back, shook by Natalie's frequent spasms. She is held upright by stationary shackles on her wrists overhead, her naked, bare body gleaming in the sterile light. Her graceful legs are bound wide apart by a spreader bar, and her calves and thighs tremble with orgasmic convulsions.

Natalie never had the same kind of bust that Maria bore, the classically curvy frame, but she had a fantastic ass, sculpted by frequent workouts and the jogs she shared with Maria in the mornings. It is that same ass, firm and thick and tight, that spreads wide about a thick shaft plunging between taut cheeks, punching deep within her bowels to fuck her relentlessly.

With each lingering stroke, a small device strapped to her pelvis, over her clitoris vibrates briefly, drawing shuddering moans from the trapped woman each time. Liquid drips freely from her neglected folds, collecting in a small puddle between her spread legs.

She has not capitulated yet, but it will not be long. Analysis indicates that her submission will be complete in mere hours.

And still, the shaft between Maria's thighs pursues its devious work, diving deep into the trembling cleft of her pussy and drawing back, tempo just slow enough to deny her the orgiastic climax.

Maria read the text on the screen with a growing sense of horror. Natalie had taken it on her own to save her . . . had he killed her?

The screen changed to a live image of her. "Natalie? No!" cried Maria when she recognized her friend and handler. Poor Nat, she wasn't a field agent, nor did she have the training in resisting interrogation. It was surreal, to see Natalie, spread wide, her hair a mess, being plundered much like Maria was enduring. Watching her friend in the throes of unwilling passion was a painful thing, and yet, as Maria watched her friend shaking from orgasm after orgasm, she felt an overwhelming sense of envy, and she moaned helplessly as the vibrating knob delved deeply inside her again, her maddening desire made even more crippling after watching Natalie cum.

Maria couldn't help but wonder why Natalie was being plundered from the rear, while she herself was spared. Then she remembered her friend once, after one two many tequila shots, confessing to loving anal sex. Maria had been shocked, and then the two of them had succumbed to fits of laughter. Suddenly Maria remembered the machines testing her; they must have done the same to Natalie, and chosen her torments based on that. It was a frightening thought, and it made her predicament all the more hopeless.

"Oh g-god," she choked, as the terrible rod slowly plunged inside her overflowing sex yet again. Maria knew the machine would not let her cum, yet somehow she could not stop herself from trying over and over. Each time it entered her, she would move her hips to try to coax the needed movement from the vibrating knob, yet it always seemed one step ahead of her, and the frustration threatened to drive her mad.

Poor Nat was clearly about to break on the screen, Maria could see that. She had to do something, so she spoke, hoping that someone was listening.

"Doctor, if you can hear me, I--I will give you what you want, if you just release her. Please, my name is Maria Helstrom! There I said it---oh! Ahhh, gaa--damn!" she cried, as the shaft gently buried itself between her legs to the hilt. She found herself unable to focus her mind to speak until it had pulled itself out, and then she continued, out of breath. "I . . . will tell you whatever . . . you want to know . . . just please . . . let her go! She'd not an Agent, please, it's my fault she came to you, please don't do this!"

The screen flickers again, presenting new text.

Compliance confirmed. Applying analysis suite . . .

Penetrative Compatibility: 68%
Breast Sensitivity: 82%
Denial Susceptibility: 84%
Predicament Index: 8

Tailoring Scenario . . .

Applying Compliance Scenario #1

The knob extends slowly once more, burying itself into Maria's pussy, but this time it remains extended, a thick, warm weight spreading her folds about this large intruder. Then it begins to softly vibrate, shuddering within the firm grip of her cunt until the redhead's thighs begin to quake. Without the absence of penetration, climax is ever closer than before, but the friction is too low to provide that final inch of pleasure to topple her over the edge - the vibration is a bare buzz, almost unnoticeable to anything except her hypersensitized pussy. It would come from the stimulation of her breasts, except the warm goo has retreated entirely now, leaving her heavy teats swaying and aching for anything, just one more touch.

The screen flickers again:

What is Natalie's disarm code? Compliance will be rewarded.

The disarm code deactivates all of an ADA employee's safeguards; normally used after a mission safely back at home, its use here would mean the loss of all hope of rescue.

But Maria's legs are spread and full of firm, vibrating shaft, and her long-denied orgasm hangs just ahead out of her reach, and Natalie looks so satisfied, eyes lidded and rolling back as she humps back against the thick black shaft spreading the thick globes of her ass, filling herself to the brim with thick faux cock as that little buzzer torments her clitoris. The other woman's hips buck back and forth, firm derriere quivering, between the two stimulations, and her legs shudder as more liquid drips from her convulsing pussy.

Maria's eyes were drawn to the screen which suddenly came to life. She read the text, and suddenly had the sinking feeling that she'd made a mistake. The machines had taken her attempt at negotiating as compliance, and that seemed to have triggered a response. She tensed, fearfully of what that might be - the Doctor seemed to have an endless supply of impossibly cruel and demeaning tortures, and she was terrified of what might come next.

Maria bit her lip in anxiety as she felt the shaft entering her again, her hips trembling as it made it slow penetration deep into her overflowing folds. Then it stopped, not retreating as before, and she tensed as the knob began to vibrate deep inside her. A moan escaped her tightly closed lips as the growing vibrations sent her so close to the edge of ecstasy, and then it seemed to back off to an almost imperceptible vibration, holding her there. Moaning in frustration, Maria pushed her hips back against the knob, trying to create the needed motion, but to her surprise, the knob moved with her body, so that it stayed deeply inserted. The lack of friction frustrated her, and she pumped her hips, but she could not get the shaft to move inside her, to create any kind of friction. Her breasts swayed untouched now, for the liquid had retreated, to keep her from finding satisfaction that way. With a frenzy of movements, she jerked her hips, straining her torso to reach the pool of liquid that was suspended just below her oversensitized breasts, craving stimulation. All she needed was a little more!

"You bastard!" she choked, finally giving up, her body slumping in defeat. The burning unquenched need was maddening, and made coherent thought exceedingly difficult. She had an unbidden thought. What if she complied? The machines promised a reward. Maria moaned at the thought of being rewarded with an orgasm. But she'd already given her name, what did it want now?

What is Natalie's disarm code? Compliance will be rewarded.

No! How did they know about that? Maria had a disarm code too, each agent did, a phrase known only to them. Natalie did not have the full suite of devices that Maria did, but she had enough to cause trouble for the Doctor, which must have been why they wanted it. Normally she would not have known Natalie's code, but her friend had told her once in one of their drunken outings, and they'd both laughed at the dirty phrase. The Doctor couldn't possibly know this, he must have assumed she knew.

The screen changed back to showing Natalie, still being plundered from behind, her face glowing from the repeated orgasms. Maria groaned in frustration, suddenly feeling enormous jealousy that her friend had been given satisfaction while she was left in mindless frustration. She suddenly had a thought. The earpiece, perhaps Natalie was still wearing it, and now in reception range, inside the Fortress?

"Nat? Can you hear me?" she said tentatively. Almost immediately, she saw her friend respond on screen, her eyes opening with difficulty as she seemed to try to focus. "Natalie, wake up!" she shouted.

"Maria?" came the voice in her ear. It sounded strange, almost not like Natalie, and the voice was filled with heavy desire. "W-where are you?"

"Nat, listen to me! Trigger protocol three! You have to get out of there, do it!" Maria watched with anticipation, but her friend didn't move, and didn't seem to respond.

"Maria . . . I'm so tired . . . just let me sleep . . ." came the voice, broken with sporadic moans and gasps of pleasure. Maria felt deflated. Natalie was too far gone. Even if she triggered her device, she'd not have the strength to walk. Her protocols were useless.

"Nat, please forgive me . . ." she said, a tear rolling down her cheek. "Natalie's disarm code is . . . 'Poke me in the butt.'"

The code travels through their shared frequency, and there is a nigh-inaudible 'click' as Natalie slumps in her restraints, her emergency ephephrine package shorting out as the code disarms her safeties, allowing her to slump into blissful unconsciousness. The machine finally withdraws, allowing her abused anus to close, twitching from the prolonged penetration. With a further click, the area that Natalie stands upon begins to sink into the floor, forming a pit that begins to fill with slowly spilling silver goo. Not long after, as the gentle waves of unctuous slime begin to lap at her partner's thighs, the video closes, leaving the screen blank again.

Compliance recognized. Beginning reward program.

The shaft draws back - and then thuds back in between Maria's thighs, the padded surface smacking against her straining hips again with a satisfying impact as the probe fills her completely with warm, thick, vibrating cock - and then again, and again, as it blessedly continues to fuck her with steady, firm strokes, some new, buzzing protuberance pushing up against her throbbing clit each time, stimulating the little pearl. The machine doesn't hesitate or draw back, now; it fucks her clean over the edge of her orgasm, and doesn't stop.

At the same time, the container of silver goo rises beneath Maria's heavy, swaying breasts, recapturing them in warmly suckling liquid that draws and nibbles on her taut nipples, kissing its way across her generous curves and cupping her aching cleavage.

It's a symphony of orgiastic pleasure, and it submerges Maria beneath its carefully designed and optimized routines, programmed exactly to her specifications. Machined for perfection.

Cum. Cum. Cum. Cum. Cum. Cum. Cum.

The voice repeats in her ear, soft and female, robotic, urging her on to that earned height.

Maria's eyes were glued to the monitor, so when Natalie slumped in her restraints, she initially panicked, until she realized what must have happened. Her protocols must have been keeping her awake, so once shut off, she had passed out. Maria shivered inside at the thought of passing out from excessive orgasms. On the screen, Natalie suddenly began to sink into a depression, which began filling with silver goo. She was sure they wouldn't let her friend drown in it, but the screen went blank before Natalie was covered by the liquid.

Compliance recognized. Beginning reward program.

Maria's body flamed high at the imagined reward, and she frowned when she felt the shaft retracting. Then it rammed forward, cause her mouth to fly open in shock as the vibrating cock filled her, then pulled back, then rammed forward. Maria moaned, her head flying back as the motion she'd been craving was finally given. The shaft's rhythm was instantly overwhelming, and she cried out with each firm stroke as she felt a rush of mind-rupturing pleasure building inside her. A buzzing device moved against her clit, causing her to let out a tortured cry as the pleasure reached a painful level. An hour of withheld pent-up desire hit her like a tidal wave, and she screamed as her body flared high with a shuddering orgasm that went on for an unnatural length of time, finally leaving her gasping and slumped in her bonds.

A human lover would have let her rest at that point, but the machine gave her no such mercy, the thick, vibrating cock continuing to plunder her, and push her against the buzzing device. The sensations were too powerful on her tender flesh, and she struggled to escape them, to try to find some moment to rest, but of course she had nowhere to go.

Cum.

Her head raised up suddenly as she heard a sexy female voice in her ear. Maria shook her head, she did not like being ordered to cum.

"Oh no," she murmured, as a platform raised up a trough of silver goo, which began to caress and kneed her breasts and tease her nipples. It felt as if a dozen lovers were exploring her chest with their lips and fingers, and in seconds, her body was heading for a climax. "Oh god!!!" screamed Maria, her body arching and stiffening as the second orgasm wracked her body. Again it lasted far too long, finally cresting and leaving her murmuring and panting as her mind struggled to absorb everything.

Cum.

Already her body was heating up again to the merciless assault of sensations. No man could ever have done this to her, she realized, and she'd never have let one if he were able. In moments, she crested again, a husky cry coming from her lips, until she slumped again, sucking in air the feed her rapidly beating heart.

Cum, said the female voice, the word itself causing her body to respond with a gush of heat.

"God no," cried Maria. She couldn't take another orgasm, it was too much. "Please," she gasped toward the screen. "Y-you have re-rewarded me-ohhh! No more, p-please! Oh god, noooo!" she screamed as another wave bowled over her.

Maria had thought not cumming was torture, but she was discovering a new torture now, that threatened to take over her mind.

Cum.

Her body nearly came at the soft word spoken in her ear, but she had no time to try to understand why. "No more, please!" she croaked, praying the machine would let her rest . . .

There is a inaudible click of machinery behind Maria's head, and a smooth, gel-like helmet lowers over her head, covering her eyes and ears, drowning out what little of the world she could have sensed. Tiny headphones in the soundproofed contraption play the sound of a wave, rising and receding, timed perfectly to the rise and fall of her own orgasm - at the crest of each wave, that word rings out again, soft and commanding, pitch amorphous, sometimes low and baritone, sometimes androgynous, but the intonation and inflection always the same.

Cum.

The soft goo covering her body begins to quiver and suckle - Maria has no way to see, but the silver discolors gradually, turning an oily black as it draws lactic acid through the pores of her skin, removing the aches and muscle strain from her body, gradually exchanging it with nutrient-laced water and gliding from her gleaming skin into tiny drains set into the platform. New synthfluid gradually drips onto her back from a faucet set above Maria's bound, shuddering body, completing the cycle.

Cum.

Each intonation comes in a different voice, different pitch and tone, but the word slithers into Maria's brainstem and down past her consciousness even as it slips away from her, tied to her clenching pussy and bucking hips and the heat of her body. Embedded into her hindbrain, the word is indelible, delivered precisely in time with each quivering vibration of the shaft buried between her legs and each suckle upon her straining, taut nipples.

Stop.

The machines whine to a stop, as the silver goo soothes away the nervous twitches left over in Maria's body from her convulsive orgasms.

Sleep.

Maria struggled, pulling on her bonds as she felt a smooth material sliding over her head. In seconds she was completely blind, and deaf, heightening the sensations coming from her sensitive body to near painful levels. The machines never ceased, driving her to yet another quaking orgasm, the soft voice of the word 'cum' ever present, burning deep into her psyche with each delicious vibration and clenching of her inner muscles.

Maria had learned that with the Doctor, nothing was by accident or without meaning, and she feared the purpose of that voice in her ear, perfectly timed to her body's helpless responses to the sexual torture. It was some kind of conditioning, and Maria feared it was working, for she'd lost all control over her own body. Her hands clutched helplessly at the air, straining in her manacles, her body exhausted from the endless shuddering orgasms.

Without the ability to see and hear, other than the seductive commanding voice, she could feel a strange, warm tingling all over her body, as if tiny massages were softening and relaxing her muscles. She began to feel a fluid dripping on her back, she unable to move far enough in her bonds to escape it. Her voice felt hoarse from the sporadic moans and tortured cries the machines were forcing upon her, her will to fight, to keep silent, long crushed by the onslaught of pleasure that she had no ability to fight. Maria had received endless training, but none of it designed to fight pleasure, to resist its seductive allure.

Stop.

The sudden end of the sensations was a shock, making her moan at the loss with an incredible sense of disappointment, her body still burning with desire. Maria fought her mind's reaction; she did not want to feel this way, but she couldn't deny her body's lamenting of the sudden loss of intense pleasure.

Sleep.

No! thought Maria, not now, I can't give in! All over her body, the silver liquid was massaging away the tension, dulling the burning arousal. A wave of exhaustion and satisfaction washed over her, making her eyes flutter inside the helmet and her body relax so much that she slumped in her bonds. With a deep sense of guilt, she let the sleep overcome her, telling herself she would fight later . . . after she rested . . .

In her unconscious void, the gel suit that Maria has worn all this time begins to solidify into a smooth, clinging layer. The interrogation platform that bore her sinks into the floor, carrying her alongside into a pitch-black subarea that swiftly fills with more goo, enveloping her entire form in a pool of nervesynth liquid. Her restraints release, letting her limp body float free into the spherical space, as the mask over her face begins to transmit oxygen, keeping her from drowning in the fluid.

The nervesynth is specially formulated to have no nerve conductivity - the human body can't sense it at all, through touch, temperature, taste, or any other sense, forming a sensory deprivation vat. Thus, it carries signals extroardinarily well, and when the chamber begins to hum with channeled energy, it flows straight to Maria's sleeping brain, continuing and deepening her submission through sleep hypnosis.

In the pitch black of her mind, Maria floats, nude and vulnerable. There is no sensation, there is nothing, only the faint echoes of the overwhelming pleasure that came before.

Nothing.

And then there is Male. Indefinable, something slipping past the guards of her mind, replacing the patterns set by her friend Natalie, sliding into the slot her lifelong friend has always occupied. In her own nervesynth vat, her handler's memories are catalogued and matched with Maria's own, and steadily injecting each memory of warmth, of friendliness and dependence, with this Male, as if it had been in their lives all this time, trusted and loved.

Having verified the strength of their relationship, Kratsvich's diabolic machinery now turns it against them.

Male links his arms over Maria's hips in a loose embrace from behind, and kisses the side of her neck, endearing and teasing - his body pressed up against her naked skin from behind, hips grinding his tumescent shaft up against her firm buttocks. Hey there, belle.

In the blurriness of her exhaustion, the chemical burn of the goo on her still-humming nerves, the simple embrace is / has / will be a comfort, letting her body calm down from the screaming tension of the last several hours.

Lowering Maria's defenses, as the Fortress begins to rewrite who she is.

Maria floated in a warm, soothing world that seemed to perfectly match what she needed after her ordeal. Her mind drifted, free of dreams, free of anxiety and fear, her body finally relaxed, the intensity of her orgasms replaced by a gentle satisfying glow. Over time, a vague dream materialized in her mind, and grasped at it, intrigued by the sense of security and happiness it seemed to offer. A long-time trusted friend, or lover perhaps; he always made her feel loved and appreciated. Her mind cuddled up to the dream being, to the warmth and comfort he offered as he always had.

Maria hummed happily as the being morphed from comforting friend to amorous lover, and though deep in her mind she sensed this was not a normal response from this person, their closeness and affection for each other made it seem natural and pleasing. Her body responded eagerly when she felt his maleness touch her. Maria hesitated, her dream state starting to shimmer and grow hazy as always happened when she began to awake. No, she thought, don't go! She didn't want the dream to end! To her great relief, the images became clear again. Hey there, belle. said her dream lover.

I missed you, thought Maria. I need you. She wriggled her bottom against his teasing shaft, in a way she knew would entice him. She floated in a sea of nothingness, the dream world consisting of only she and her trusted lover, and she'd never felt more safe and happy.

As Maria's mind opens up, the Fortress Cognate - the immense processor that the fortress itself, and all its organic and inorganic elements compromise - seeps into her neurons and begins to subtly tinker with her history. The ADA maintains a celled structure for operational security purposes, each agent only having contact with a superior and her handler, but this system makes it trivially easy for Kratsvich's neuroprocessing to rewire loyalties, as there as so few people to fixate on.

The image of Male solidifies, filling out with constructed history, becoming Malict Donovan - the vaguely cerebral comforts of his body against Maria's ascending into real physical sensation, the line of a solidly-muscled chest, fit from ADA fitness regimens, or the curve of a solid calf pressed up against the back of her own, spooning her shorter form comfortably. His warm breath brushes the nape of Maria's neck, puffing in warm bursts.

Need me? How bold of you, he says, firm cock shifting with warm blood as he shifts his hips forward, burying it between her thighs in the hollow of her legs, rubbing up against the wetness of her core with the broad head of his member. But then I know you. You get what you want.

A hand deftly turns Maria's head just slightly, and Malict dusts a kiss across her lips as he rocks his hips, sliding his shaft up against her womanhood, gentle friction to warm and ready her body. The other slides down the length of her navel to frame her lower lips with two fingers and spread them wide, thumb stroking across the tender folds.

As if gradually coming out of a vivid dream and slowly awakening, the dream lover began to take shape in Maria's mind. The comforting sensual shape of his toned body against hers became more real, and the arousal in her own flesh more intense. Maria shivered at the warm breath against the curve of her neck, and she turned her head slightly to smile at her lover.

Mal? Maria stiffened suddenly as she saw the strong chin and amused grin of her handler. Malict Donovan, ADA veteran and former agent, now handler - his skill and experience were matched only by his mischievous nature and reputation with the ladies. They had a long history together, and Mal loved to tease Maria, a trait that drove her to frustration at times, when he would be cracking jokes or whispering innuendos in her ear piece in the middle of a mission. Their friendship was deep and sexually charged, and her knees grew weak in the presence of her handsome, athletic handler, but her professionalism had always prevailed over his attractiveness. Which was why it came as a great shock to find herself in bed with him, his naked body pressed hotly against her backside.

Need me? How bold of you.

Maria gasped as she felt his rigid member sliding into the hollow between her thighs, and she arched her back against his hard chest when his cock moved against her pussy, which strangely seemed already moist and ready.

But then I know you. You get what you want.

"Mal!" she gasped, her eyes closing as she tried to ignore the stroking of his cock against the wetness of her folds. "Get ahold of yourself, we . . we agreed never to do this!" she choked, squirming against him.

Malict just smiles against the back of Maria's neck, his lips moving against her nape pleasantly. "We made that agreement years and years ago, Maria. To be professional, you said. I didn't disagree at the time, either. But I've known you for a long time now, and I've - revised my opinion."

His hand drifts up across her supple body to cup one generous tit, squeezing and moulding it in callused fingers. "About what I find attractive in women."

Malict's hips rock again, long and slow, meeting the arc of her body and continuing the grind of their sexes together, shaft bathing in the trickle of her lubrication. "About what I'm willing to settle for."

He leans forward and nips at her earlobe. "Nothing less than you. Four years, Maria, and I've never seen another woman like you. I never will; I know that now. I'd be a fool to let you get away."

Maria listened to her long-time friend and handler confess his feelings to her, and she felt an unfamiliar and frightening tightness in her chest. There was not much that could scare Maria. The truth was, she'd fallen for Malict some time ago, as the only man she'd ever met who could get through her outer shell, the barrier that allowed her to perform as a ruthless and lethal ADA agent. She found herself attracted to his unusual combination of wit and boyish playfulness, along with skilled professionalism and a seeming ability to read her thoughts, to know her moves before she made them. Maria lived no the edge, her career necessitated being in complete control, of herself and her surroundings. So in a man, she needed someone who could take that away, to whisk her away from reality, take away her sense of control and supreme confidence, and make her feel feminine, and vulnerable. Such a man was not easy to find, but she suspected Mal was that man. She wanted to find out, but she didn't dare, for fear of what it might lead to.

As a team, they were unmatched, and the Agency knew it, which was why they'd worked together for so long. But their extended time together had been making it harder and harder for Maria to maintain her aloof, professional attitude toward Mal, to hide her feelings, and she'd begun to wonder if he'd suspected something. It was a great concern of hers, for her life, her success as an Agent, and even his life, depended on them having a platonic, distraction-free relationship.

For this reason, Maria was filled with confusion and uncertainty, as she found herself naked with Mal, and somehow filled with desire and a near uncontrollable arousal. As his hand encircled her breast and toyed with her ripened nipple, Maria gasped, her thighs clenching on his slick shaft, which to her shock, was sliding slowly back and forth, drawing shudders from her insides.

Maria shivered as he nibbled on her earlobe. "Nothing less than you. Four years, Maria, and I've never seen another woman like you. I never will; I know that now. I'd be a fool to let you get away."

Her heart threatened to melt away into a puddle of warm liquid, but she shook her head. She could not give in, no matter how much she wanted this. She thought of Mal, in love with his agent, jumping into a helicopter and attempting some foolish rescue. Maria jumped in alarm, that thought having a strong effect on her, as is it had already happened. Yet here he was, she in his arms, safe. She shook her head in confusion. Then Maria forgot about the confusion and moaned as the head of his shaft moved against her eager opening before sliding slowly forward between her thighs again. Mal had always loved to tease her, but how did she ever let him get her in bed? She reached up with one hand to grasp the hand on her breast, gently pulling his hand away. With her other hand, she reached down and pushed his warm cock down, so it no longer contacted the juncture of her thighs.

"Malict, we cannot do this! You are . . . my best friend, my confidante, I need you . . . in my ear, directing me . . . not worrying about me every second. ADA relationships always end poorly . . . I cannot lose you, please!"

She tried a different tact. "You . . . you don't want me, think of all those evil men I had to bed in performance of my duties . . . you can do so much better. How about Natalie, she's sweet and beau---ahh!" suddenly there was a searing pain in her head as she tried to picture her friend . . . as if reaching into a mist to grasp at thin air, Maria could not finish her thought, could not remember anything about her friend, save her name, and that she was close to her. She shook her head as the pain subsided. Her hands were still trying to ward off Mal, though she knew he was strong, stronger even than she. She turned her head to look him in the eye. He was so handsome, his eyes seemed to look right through her. It was much easier to resist his charms when he was only a voice in her ear.

Mal chuckles behind Maria, and draws her hips flush with his. The thick shaft of his cock slides between her thighs and emerges between them on the other side, swollen head bobbing with his heartbeat beating firmly against her naked back. "Allow me to persuade you," he murmurs into her ear, and then catches Maria's mouth with his own as her head turns, lips sliding smoothly against each other.

His hand overlaps hers and he guides it low, to the juncture of their sexes, laying it over both the delta of her legs and the throbbing tower of his shaft. With a faint hiss of exhalation, he strokes her thumb over both her aching clitoris and the head of his cock, mixing precum together in a sticky, heady lubricant. Their fingers lace together as Mal slowly masturbates them both together like this, hands stroking and caressing as his hips grind against hers automatically, responding to primordial instinct.

His other hand catches hers as well and pins it to the side, submitting her to his desires; something only Malict would ever dare do, this fierce, unbent agent a sensual thing in his hands, sublime and submissive in a way he would never let anyone else ever witness.

"What I want to do, Maria," he murmurs, slow against her lips, "is fuck you. I want to bury myself in you and stroke until I come in you, your body bending and wrapped around mine. I want to make you mine, in the only way you'd ever let anyone own you."

There's a strange tenor in his voice, a rich resonance, that vibrates through Maria's body and pools in her core, hot and liquid.